


Chlorine ≫ joshler

by bubbllygum



Category: Bandom, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: DEMA (Twenty One Pilots), Dark, Gay, Gore, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Mental Illness, Triggers, gory, i'll add tags as i go, joshler - Freeform, mental health, trench
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-04
Packaged: 2020-02-26 00:33:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18712873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bubbllygum/pseuds/bubbllygum
Summary: tyler's prisoner in dema, tortured on the dailey and deprived of all basic human needs, and Josh is trying to do the right thing to help but his mind is lost.





	Chlorine ≫ joshler

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize for the long break, I got a new phone and they keyboard is awful to type on so I got a bluetooth keyboard to write with now.  
> I hope you all enjoy!  
> This is in no way part of the canon trench story, this is just me taking a base idea and running with it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tyler's following protocol, but nobody else is willing today

        a single light dimly flickered above his head, filling the small, tiled room with a disgusting and pale tint. it was bound to burn out any day now; the man sitting in the bath tub was shocked it hadn't yet been replaced; the same bulb had been dangling precariously above him every day he was forced into this bath.

        it was sickening, really. 

        The tub was already cramped for him, and the cracked tile dirtied with dirt, blood, and god knows what else was enough to make him want to cry already. the least he could be permitted was sufficient lighting that didn't make him heave over and hurl out what was left of his raw insides over the side of the tub. the worst part was that they never seemed to clean up the mess of stomach acid he made, hence why the tiles to the side looked to be quickly fading and breaking down.

        the smell in the room was putrid as well. you'd think that the smell of bleach and chlorine would signify that the bathing room would be thoroughly cleaned often. but no. the unbearably strong odor was what was in the bath tub itself.

        chlorine. maybe there was a little water mixed in as well, but that didn't meant it helped with the irritation it brought to the brunette's skin; it didn't mean it made it any better when the strong stench made his chest so tight and breathing so difficult he would have to be dragged out of the room before he fell asleep for good, embarrassingly naked and reeking of the strong chemical as he was rinsed down with freezing water he was sure was always fished straight out of a sewer.

        but right now, he was okay. his chest was tight, and he was sweating and harshly taking in deep breaths, but it was better than normal. his miserable dark eyes could make out the tile pattern decorating all four walls surrounding him; he could hear his own humming of a tune he and his now deceased friend had made up. 

        although it was hard to resist the burning and watering of his eyes and how uncomfortable the small tub was with his knees brought to his chest and arms atop his knees, he could stay awake and not puke for once. many bathing times started like this for him however; he'd just been put in. any minute now he knew they'd be coming back in to ensure he hadn't fallen asleep choking on his own vomit or drowned himself, but he didn't mind that for once either.

        because as soon as he got out of this tub, he was going to escape. he was going to leave this hell, and go meet up with the other escapees. it didn't matter that he hadn't ran since he first was put into this misery about a year ago and that his skin was flaking off; he was going to make it out, and somehow live to tell the tale.

        the brunette was snapped out of his reverie of staring at the liquid he was sitting in when he heard the heavy, asylum-like door creak open. his tired, brown eyes were now transfixed on the shadowy figure cloaked in the same copper-colored robes the boy'd learned to despise, just waiting for them to leave or to pull him out of the tub and decide that his daily 'cleansing' was over.

        "im not coughing," the brunette affirmed, voice raspy from the previous night's screaming. he did that nearly every night. it was his way of telling the entire building that he wasn't dead yet, and he wasn't going to stop his incessant, nightly shrieking until he was relieved of his body or by some miracle they let him go back home. or until they sewed his lips together. they'd done that to another prisoner only a few weeks prior, but for disrespectful talking instead.

        the cloaked man didn't seem interested in the brunette sitting in the chemical bath, instead stepping closer until he was right beside the lip of the tub. instinctively, the prisoner covered himself with his legs and arms, hyper aware that the masked man could be eyeing his form.

        instead, he rolled up his long sleeve up to his elbow and reached into the chemicals. swiftly the boy moved back; he didn't feel like getting touched, even accidentally. 

        "am i allowed to get out?" he questioned, heart racing and not only from how hard it was to breathe, but also how this has never happened before.

        a normal cleansing consisted of him being shamefully stripped of all his clothing and shoved into this same room and into the same tub, which they always filled with fresh chlorine just for him. he'd sit in it for maybe an hour, normally less as he'd end up choking and hacking and the cloaked figures would drag him out. but when he could stay the remainder of the time in the bath, they'd come in, command him to get out and go back to his 'room' (which was more of a freezing cold, concrete cell he shared with about ten other people), and drain the tub while he desperately tried to cover himself with the rag of a towel they gave him to dry off his raw, peeling skin.

        he knew their protocol. and this wasn't it. "am i allowed to leave?" the brunette asked once more, a bit of a bite to his tone that normally got him a smack to the face for being rude.

        but this man, this servant of the counsel, didn't answer, nor punish him. he was fishing around in the liquid until suddenly his hand halted, and the brunette felt the chemicals quickly draining and flowing past his mottled skin. the drain had been pulled; he looked to the cloaked figure with confusion written all over his battered face.

        the porcelain-looking masks covered all but their eyes; he could see the soft, brown eyes that looked back into his. they stood out against the white of his plain mask, the man's hair covered by the hood draping over his head.

       "tyler," the figure addressed. it felt so alien to hear his first name after so long of just being called things such as welp or rat. 

        the brunette didn't react though. he'd taught himself not to ever get his hopes up. some servants were just pure evil like that, being so sweet to him only to end up taking advantage of him in the sickest of ways. ways that tyler had blocked from his mind, but he didn't forget the lesson he learned about them.

        the last of the chlorine gurgled as it slipped down the small drain near tyler's feet; the brunette could feel his skin that'd been doused with the chemical alight with fire. a pain of his torn skin being eaten away that he'd never learned to adjust to.

        "it burns," he croaked, just barely as his throat was sore. normally he'd never dare even mention a complaint, but the mocha eyes looked so endearing and soft, as if whoever was behind the mask genuinely had good intentions. he knew, however, that even if the servant did, he was just as much a slave to the counsel as he was a prisoner to them.

        the masked man turned his head, looking at the still open door for a moment longer than tyler thought necessary. "it's supposed to burn," the cloaked figure spoke quietly, as if what he was saying was something sweet and not actually making tyler feel worse. swiftly, he turned his head back to meet the prisoner's dead eyes. "im gonna rinse you off though. we're gonna get all that nasty stuff off of you." he was talking to the brunette like a baby. as if he was a child. it annoyed him, but he said nothing; the proposition of a real bath was exciting. but it was also suspicious. 

        tyler held a stone cold stare with the pair of warm eyes. he couldn't trust them, he knew that too well. "i just need a towel, please." all he needed was to dry off and find a pair of tattered pants and maybe a shirt and he'd be happy. anything more was a dubious proposition that may end in him being tortured again or finally leave him cold and paler than he already was.

        when the masked man didn't say anything, still staring at tyler, the brunette got defensive. "i said please. i don't need to rinse, i just need to sleep." 

        "im not gonna gas you, i promise."

        tyler eyed the man precariously, adjusting his near withered foot and wrapping his skeletal arms around his equally as bony legs so he wouldn't slip in the slick bottom of the tub. "i don't want a rinse, i don't need a rinse, please." scrawny hand shaking from the stress it took him to even lift it, he pointed to the towards the door with his scraggly finger. "i need a towel. and- and maybe a fresh pair of clothes for once. if you're really trying to be helpful, just- do something i know you can't kill me with." although he often told himself and fellow prisoners he'd gladly die to be free of the cult-like hell, he actually greatly feared death. it meant that he'd die the way of this cult, not in a way he wanted. 

        it took the figure a moment to answer his meek, yet stern voice; tyler could see pity in those dark eyes as he scanned the brunette's body. it was practically a skeleton at this point, rib cage painfully visible and wrist bones obscenely piercing his skin. 

        "i can't give you fresh clothes," the man finally answered. abruptly, so abruptly that tyler flinched harshly, he reached and grabbed the brunette's shoulders, attempting to pull the boy out of the tub.

        the hold he had on his fragile body was in no way gentle, but that was probably because the scrawny male was thrashing against the touch. he wasn't going to rinse off; he had a suspicion it'd end up being bleach. or maybe it would be water, and he'd get his head dunked under by this strangely friendly servant. drowning was one of his greatest fears; he wasn't going to let that happen.

        shrieks of tyler spouting 'stop' over and over echoed off of the tiled walls, the light bulb pulsing almost as if his scream was somehow affecting the flow of electricity to it. 

       "shit," he heard the servant curse, dropping the skeleton of a man from his grip when he'd clawed the man's wrist. 

        embarrassed from the fact that he was now half hanging over the side of the tub naked and frightened that he'd just harmed one of the servants of the counsel, he swiftly scurried back into the tub, hugging himself into a bony ball and just waiting to be hit, or dragged off.

        "im trying to help you, tyler!" the man hissed, seeming aggravated and losing that peaceful and gentle persona. the brunette didn't miss the mutter of "little rat" that escaped the man's lips; he found himself wishing to pounce on him once again. that nickname stun worse than the chlorine.

        tyler bared his teeth, hoping to seem menacing when the masked man looked up from his wrist he'd been clutching and stared at him. he didn't even realize he was living up to looking like a little rat. "go away," the brunette snarled, his voice cracking.

        this still wasn't protocol, though; he was fearful that this meant it was his turn up on the metaphorical gallows. hanging was too merciful, especially for a punishment in the walls of dema. the counsel preferred barbaric ways of execution, ways that tyler refused to imagine as the reminder that he was at risk of them sent him into a state of hysteria.

         the servant grumbled to himself, once again kneeling beside the tub as he had stood up during his attempt to lift the little weasel out of the bath. "okay. here's how this is gonna go." the gentle demeanor returned as quickly as it disappeared. "im either going to pick you up and drag you down the halls naked to the showers, or you're going to be a good kid and i'll get you a towel to cover yourself while we walk down there."

        "im not a kid," tyler hissed once again. but he had no immediate answer to which way they were going to take this. this'd never happened before, and he'd never heard anyone else talk of this happening to them. he didn't know if this was a trap for him to be led to a slaughter house, or if he was genuinely going to get cleaned off. 

        the cloaked person seemed to be waiting for his response however; when he had none for a minute, once again his rough, callused hands found their way underneath the brunette's armpits and lifted him up. tyler's sharp nails once again found their way to his arms, digging into the smooth skin underneath the baggy sleave as roughly as a man with no muscle could. 

        it was enough to cause the man to retract his hands, dropping tyler and having the boy slide down the lip of the tub so he was practically laying on his back. it would've been a comical sight had the situation not been happening inside a prison of horrors and hell, and not in a bathtub where a man had been poisoned with chlorine and dirty water for days on end.

        not caring for nudity any longer, tyler was screaming and thrashing and swinging his bony fists when the man leaned over the tub and attempted to fish the skeleton of a man out of it. tyler was so happy for once to be so scrawny; the man seemed too disgusted to touch his bones, hence why whenever his rough fingers touched his rib cage they'd retract, and he'd attempt to pick him up a different way.

        it was a struggle really; tyler was shrieking and yelling curses and threats and nonsense as he squirmed away from the touch of the cloak-clad man. 

         all his hope and vigor suddenly halted when he heard a loud, frightening voice from the open door. he was still thrashing and growling when suddenly the man kneeling over the tub was pulled away from his sight. he relaxed for once, staring up at the flickering lightbulb and breathing harshly as his bony fingers clutched the side of the bathtub. fearfully, he peered over the lip of the tub to see his assailant scrambling to stand up from the floor and another masked person shouting all sorts of nonsense that dazed tyler couldn't understand.

         they were mad. that's all his brain processed as he weakly pulled himself up out of the tub, falling off to the side not facing the door so his nudity could be hidden. he was more than shaken, the yelling and shouts of the alteration behind the tub wasn't helping; he knew he wasn't going to get any sort of care. the only reason another slave to dema would care about him getting harassed was if the man wasn't supposed to be there, or he wasn't following the correct protocol. 

        his ears picked up on a low, threatening "get out" before he was roughly pulled to his feet. scared, he looked for those mocha eyes in the mask, only to be met with a member who's mask's eyes were covered. I. E., not the man who had just tried to steal him from his hell to a potentially worse hell. 

        no words were spoken to the prisoner; he didn't expect to be told who that was as he was harshly covered with a scratchy towel and yanked out into the hallway; his whole mind was racing with confusion and fear at the mess that'd just played out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> feedback would be lovely and amazing


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